


Day Seven: Poisoning

by OBlossom



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FebuWhump2021, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, IronDad and SpiderSon, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poisoning, Steve Rogers said a bad word, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29263626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OBlossom/pseuds/OBlossom
Summary: Libby smiled big, “Awesome! I’m gonna just take a second to leave some notes for Ray and everything will be good to go!” She took that moment to pull off her gloves, and the smell was—“Wha—what’s that smell?” Peter mumbled.Libby heard him. “Oh, it’s rose oil.” She held her hands out for him to smell. “It’s really great for people with pain management issues and it’s ‘shark week’ and all so...” She smiled at him, “Why? Do you like it?”Peter didn’t get a chance to answer her as he struggled both for breath and consciousness—and then stopped struggling at all.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138958
Comments: 6
Kudos: 203
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Day Seven: Poisoning

**Author's Note:**

> et voila!
> 
> -Colleen xo

Day 7: poisoning

Mr. Warren was sick, which wouldn’t have been a big deal except for the fact that his replacement was ‘Libby.’

Libby was 28 years old, blond, blue eyed, and had traveled all over South America over the last two years even though she was “only supposed to be there for six weeks, but then Raoul happened, and how could anyone resist because—c’mon, it was Raoul! And then there was all that stuff with the passports, but Daddy had fixed all of that up so whatever...”  
From the sound of it, ‘Daddy’ had decided that Libby needed a taste of the real world, cut off her access to the credit cards, and told her she needed to get a job. 

Fun fact: Libby still had the tan.

Oh, and she was a virgo.

Needless to say, she was an interesting sort of person—and not in a good way.

To be fair, Peter was already feeling off kilter. Ned was out sick with the flu which meant that Peter would be taking notes during their biology lab instead of performing the dissection Mr. Warren had planned. Of course, this also meant Flash had been especially heinous during their lunch period—going so far as to inspire MJ to start a whole new crisis sketchpad just for Peter. And then there was Libby. Every time Libby walked by his lab table as she relayed her ‘background,’ he could have sworn that his spider-senses were going off. They screamed danger, but all Peter could see was, well, her.

Maybe he was just irritated that a sub meant delaying their lab time 

Libby made her way back up to the front of the class and called everyone to attention. “Okay, children!”

They all looked at each other in disbelief. Really?

“Alright, if I have everyone’s attention, we can discuss how today is going to work.” She smiled big and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have spoken with Ray, and know you were all looking forward to today’s lab. After some discussion, Ray and I both feel confident that I can do this lab with you.” She giggled and continued. “Believe it or not, I actually did some pre-med!”

They all looked at each other again. Yeah. They’d go with ‘not,’ thank you very much.

She clapped her hands to bring their focus back to her. “Now, I have trays prepared and ready for one member of each pair to come and collect. Before you decide who, please take this time to clear off your tables. Put all supplies in your backpacks or under chairs so you don’t contaminate any of your personal items.”

One last time, they all shared a look, but this time it was one of shared optimism. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad? 

From behind the front table, she produced nine separate trays for the supposed nine pairs—but with Ned home sick...

“Alright, someone from the front two tables come up and grab your items, please, and then when they’re back, the next two and so on until everyone has a tray.” She clapped her hands again, “Chop, chop, everyone! Time’s a’wasting!”

Table by table, the teens went and gathered their items with Peter sitting back and wondering which group he’d be dumped on.

When all of the tables were done, Libby stood before them all with one final tray. “Oh, it seems that...” her eyes roaming the classroom for the reason for the... “A-ha! There you are!” She pointed to Peter, then frowned. “Oh, dear. You don’t have a lab partner today. What should we do about that?”

Betty raised her hand, “Peter can join our group, if he’d like!” 

Libby smiled at her, “That’s so kind of you, but I’ve prepared the tray and maybe we can have Peter be my helper today instead?” She looked to Peter, who could nothing more than nod in agreement.

What did he have to lose? 

He approached the front table with caution. His spider-sense was blaring, but there was no way this woman was any sort of villain! A painful stereotype, yes, but he couldn’t imagine her as anything more nefarious than that.

She excused herself as he stepped closer, “BRB, ‘kay?” and she bounced to the supply cupboard at the side of the room, “I’m allergic to latex so let me grab some nitrile gloves and we’ll get going!” she explained. 

“No problem,” Peter mumbled and put on his own standard latex gloves that had been given with their supplies. 

The lab itself had gone well. Libby, it turned out was just as squeamish about dissection as Ned would have been and Peter got to do all the cool stuff—and, by the way, was the reason why she’d dropped out of pre-med. Even the smell of formaldehyde that permeated the room was a challenge for her, but she’d muddled through for the sake of cool substitute teacher points.

Libby had also studied botany when she’d been travelling through South America and had developed a love and appreciation for plants and their healing potential. And, well, Raoul was still Raoul. 

It could have been an awesome class, save for the whole spidey thing. He tried like crazy to shake it off, but by about three-quarters of the way through class, he felt like he was battling an anxiety attack. He was working extra hard to draw in a breath, and was wholly convinced that an invisible elephant was sitting on his chest.

He just needed to calm down and he’d be fine.

Libby chose that moment to point out something on the diagram they’d been working off of, and Peter tried to blink away a couple of black spots.

Fresh air was sounding like a really great idea. He turned his head to check the clock on the wall and swayed. He caught it, and braced himself on the counter. 

What the heck?

Libby noticed the clock, too, missing Peter’s near swoon, and gasped. “Oh, my! Where has the time gone?!” She called everyone to attention, “Okay, everyone! Ray has assured me that you are all aware of disposal and clean up protocols. Let’s wrap up our note taking and get this all cleaned up so we don’t horrify the poor custodial staff after class is over!” 

She observed the class for a moment to ensure compliance and then turned back to Peter. “Are you okay to manage this on your own?” She asked and gestured to the tray. “I’d like to help but, well...” she made a barfy face to make her point. 

Peter chuckled... well, maybe he choked a little instead, but it sounded like a laugh and that was all that mattered. “Sure,” he gasped out.

Libby smiled big, “Awesome! I’m gonna just take a second to leave some notes for Ray and everything will be good to go!” She took that moment to pull off her gloves, and the smell was—

“Wha—what’s that smell?” Peter mumbled.

Libby heard him. “Oh, it’s rose oil.” She held her hands out for him to smell. “It’s really great for people with pain management issues and it’s ‘shark week’ and all so...” She smiled at him, “Why? Do you like it?”

Peter didn’t get a chance to answer her as he struggled both for breath and consciousness—and then stopped struggling at all.

* * * * * *

Peter didn’t have much memory of the time after.

He didn’t remember hitting the floor.

He didn’t remember Flash’s taunts that Penis had passed out doing a dissection.

And he definitely didn’t remember Libby and the teacher from the classroom next door having to perform CPR while they waited for an ambulance when he’d stopped breathing.

He may have had a brief recollection of Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant Bucky Barnes hijacking said ambulance, but that’s only because Captain Rogers had said a cuss word.

Being diverted to the Avengers Tower and being treated by Dr. Cho, however, was a huge blank.

All of this was why Peter, when he finally woke up, was very, very confused.

The hiss of the oxygen pressing into his mask was the first thing he heard. 

Why was the mask so loud?

He tried to lift a hand to pull it off, but someone took hold of it and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Sorry, kiddo, you gotta leave that alone.”

Peter whined in protest.

“I know, kid, but it’s helping. Trust me.”

A kiss pressed to the back of his hand again, “Hey, Spider-Man, are you back with us yet?” the voice whispered.

Peter knew that voice, “Ms-r S-k?” he rasped.

“And there you are.” Tony sounded pleased. “Can you open your eyes for me, buddy?” he pleaded, “Just for a second?”

Peter groaned this time. He lolled his head to the side and squinted up at his mentor. “Hmm?”

“Hey, bud.” Tony smiled. “How are you feeling?

Peter had to think about it for a minute. There seemed to be a disconnect that had nothing to do with pain killers. He just couldn’t figure it out. “Ches’ hurts?” 

Tony frowned, “We figured, but you’re on the mend and then we can figure things out, okay?”

Figure—what? “Wha’ happened?” He needed to know, but his need for rest seemed to be taking precedent. He blinked slow. Tony saw.

He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair, “Why don’t you rest, and we’ll talk the next time you wake up.”

Peter didn’t like not knowing. Did that mean he wasn’t safe? He pulled his eyes open wide, hoping to convince his body that he was alert.

Tony chuckled. “You’re safe to go to sleep, Peter. I promise. We have a little time now, okay?”

“Safe?” Peter grunted out.

“Yeah, you’re safe, bud. Promise,” Tony repeated, and that was all Peter needed to drift off into slumber.

* * * * * *

The next time he woke up, Peter was definitely more coherent, still exhausted but definitely more aware. He’d been downgraded to a nasal cannula which was infinitely less noisy than the oxygen mask he’d been wearing earlier. He didn’t see Tony around either, so he started to pull himself up to sitting.

“Stop right there, Mister Parker!” A voice called out. Peter froze. Dr. Cho appeared from the inside of some strange contraption to his left. “I would highly recommend that you stay lying down for the time being. We’ve only just stabilized your oxygen levels and I do not want to see that fudged up because you’re feeling fidgety.” She looked down to the tablet in her hand and tapped something quickly before fully devoting her attention to him. 

He laid back down on the bed and looked around the room. He still couldn’t remember what had happened to land him here... but it must have been something serious, from the sound of it.

“I’m sure you have questions, Peter, but I’ve let Tony and Captain Rogers know that you’re awake and they’ll have some answers for you, I hope, but for now, I’m going to do a quick exam before they get here, okay?

Peter nodded and allowed for himself to be poked and prodded by Dr. Cho and two of her nurses—anything to get this done quickly.

The nicer of the two nurses, Peter thought her name might be Nicole, was removing the rubber tourniquet from his blood draw when the two men entered the room. Captain Rogers spoke up first. “Are we okay to be in here?” he asked, “Or do you need a few more minutes?”

Dr. Cho smiled at the consideration, “We’ve just finished up.” She answered. “You’re good to go, and please forward any relevant information when you have it.” She patted Peter on the leg. “Peter, make sure they go easy on you, okay? I’ll be back in an hour to do another check.”

He nodded that he heard her and waved as she turned and walked away.

And then focused his attention on the two Avengers now seated at his bedside. Both of them wore looks of concern on their faces and, if Peter was being honest, it was a little unnerving. “Um, guys? What’s wrong?”

Captain Rogers sat down in the seat on Peter’s right, while Mr. Stark took his left, though he chose to stand and take Peter’s hand instead.

He looked back and forth between the two of them. “Um, no offense, but you’re... freaking me out...” Why was talking so difficult? Still, he pressed. “Is everything okay? Is it—“ Hold on? He sat up with a start. “It’s May, isn’t it?!... Did something... happen?!” 

An alarm blared from beside Peter’s bedside. 

Mr. Stark squeezed his hand and stopped that train of thought pretty quick. “Your aunt is fine, Pete. Promise!” He assured him, but Peter was having some difficulty catching his breath. Mr. Stark pushed Peter back to the bed and rubbed a hand through his curls to calm him. “Relax, kid. You need to take a deep breath, for me buddy.” Tony pressed a button on the bed. “She’s asleep upstairs, Peter. You just keep missing her Spider-babysitting shift, is all. She is safe and fine. Take a deep breath for me, kiddo.” Mr. Stark was looking between the monitors and Peter. Was he worried? “You’ve got this, deep breath in for me.”

The alarm continued to sound and another nurse, Peter thought this one was Laura, but he couldn’t remember came rushing in and the black spots were back and he was trying to breath but then the nasal cannula was being removed and that really loud mask was back on his face and he felt a rush of warmth in his arm and he didn’t remember things being so fuzzy before, but maybe it would be better if he just closed his eyes and then it would all. go. away.

* * * * * *

The third time Peter woke up, he was wearing an oxygen mask, just not the really noisy one. He flashed on the last time he’d been up, and figured out all on his own that he needed to leave it alone. 

May was asleep in the chair that Captain Rogers had been sitting in earlier and Tony was pacing along the window on the far wall, clutching a tablet and looking like he had something on his mind.

“Ms-r Stark?” Peter called out to him.

Mr. Stark turned to see Peter awake and rushed over to his bedside. “Kid! You can’t do that to me! Geez!” He smiled fondly down at the boy, who was still clueless as to why he was there.

“Tell me.”

Mr. Stark looked at the monitors, seemed satisfied with what he saw and began, “Well, Peter, it seems that you have been poisoned.”

Mr. Stark paused there, giving Peter a chance to process what he’d said.

“Poisoned?”

Mr. Stark ran his hand through his own hair, “Yup. It seems to be some sort of inhalant and it bound itself to your red blood cells and messed with your oxygen intake and all sorts of awful stuff that you’re probably not in the mood to hear.”

Peter blinked up at him. “Poison?”

Mr. Stark frowned down at him, “Yeah, buddy, that’s what I’m saying. Cap needs to have a chat with you so we can figure out where you were and who might have had a chance to get to you without anyone knowing. And then we’ve got to figure out how they figured out who you are ‘cuz this was Peter time and...”

Peter’s mind had been running a mile a minute—well, maybe a couple of feet a minute with how drained he still felt, but suddenly it all clicked. “Rose oil.”

It was Mr. Stark’s turn to blink at him. “Say that again?”

And so Peter did, “The bio sub was using,” he drew in a deep breath, not wanting to get excited again, “said it was for shark week... made me feel,” he gestured to his chest, “wrong. Spidey sense said so.”

May stirred in the chair, “I did not just hear you say ‘shark week,’ Peter?” She looked serious, “Because I don’t care if you’re dying in that bed. I taught you better than that. Be respectful.”

Peter huffed behind the mask. “Her words... Not mine.” He threw his hands up in surrender and then looked at Mr. Stark once more, “So yeah... rose oil.”

Mr. Stark nodded his acknowledgement and then started tapping at the tablet still in his hand. “huh.” He looked down at May. “I’m going to go talk to Dr. Cho and get Cap to stand down before Midtown becomes a scene out of CSI.” And then his attention swung back to Peter. “And do not think that I missed the fact that your spidey sense was telling you something was wrong and you ignored it. Expect to revisit that when you’re on your feet again, kid.” And with that ominous warning, Mr. Stark left the room. 

May stood up then and came to his bedside and looked at her watch. “I think Dr. Cho will be in soon for your next treatment,” she said.

“Treatment?”

She looked down at him with a sadness borne from the stress of the last... 

The last...?

“May, how long?”

“How long is the treatment? I think she’s got you down to half an hour in the hyperbaric chamber—with your healing factor and all—“

Peter cut her off. “No. How long have I been... here.” He waved to the room. 

“It’s been eight days, honey. You woke up yesterday... they didn’t know what had happened or how your body would take treatments and so everyone had to be cautious.”

“Cautious?”

It was her turn to run fingers through his hair, “Yes, because we all needed you to be okay. Okay?”

Yup. Peter was definitely feeling overwhelmed.

“Um, I think I need to sleep... is that okay?”

“Of course, honey,” May assured him. “We’ll wake you when it’s time to head in.”

He looked over at the contraption he’d seen before and suddenly understood the purpose behind it. “Hyperbaric... chamber?... Really?”

“Tony’s been looking out for you, sweetheart. Whatever it took to do it, he did.”

Peter moved his attention away from the machine to May, not sure what to say, but she saved him from trying to find something.

“Go to sleep, Peter. I’ll be here.”

And so he did.

* * * * * *

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that I’m allergic to roses?” 

Mr. Stark tapped something on his tablet, scanned the screen quickly, and then answered. “No. You are not allergic to roses. This is not an epi-pen situation. Roses will laugh at your epi-pen and then kill you.”

“What? No! It’s lavender and peppermint that I have to watch for! All the websites say so!” Peter argued, even though he was still recovering from being literally poisoned only two weeks earlier.

“Look, kid,” Mr. Stark shut him down, “Apparently there are old wives tales, and then there are REALLY old wives’ tales, and we sir, are looking at the latter.”

“But wouldn’t this have happened before now?” 

May was sitting on the couch next to Peter. “I’ve never had roses in our apartment, kiddo. Ever. Too expensive.” 

“Really?” Peter stared at her in disbelief. 

“Really. Honestly, I think they’re kind of bougie so I’ve never been a fan.” She shrugged and looked over to Mr. Stark. “No offense, Tony.”

“None taken,” he replied. “I’m of the same school of thought. Howard always insisted that our house be filled with them—turned me off something fierce.” And then he smiled. “And Pepper loves tulips and daffodils so it’s a win-win for me.”

Peter thought on it for a second. “So my cool sub almost killed me.”

Mr. Stark scowled. He’d met Libby after everything had settled but before they’d discovered the culprit behind the chaos. What he’d hoped to be a quick, but sincere, “Thanks for saving my intern,” had turned into a conversation about how this had confirmed to her that she had a “calling” and that she’d be “devoting” her life to teaching the children...

Yeah, he’d made sure that Peter had heard everything about that meet up.

It was fine, though.

Peter knew he had a few more days before he’d get the go-ahead to go back to school, so he’d just sulk about how the whole ‘roses’ thing sort of sucked and then things would go back to normal—while avoiding florists for the rest of his life.

And besides, what were the odds that he’d ever meet Libby again?

**Author's Note:**

> C'est fini!
> 
> Day seven, done.


End file.
